


Paper Hearts

by stellardrift



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Apocalypse, F/M, Romance, Small Towns, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-23 14:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellardrift/pseuds/stellardrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa is working her way through nursing school on third shift at the local truck stop, her dreams of medical school dashed after the accident that shattered her family.  Now she is stuck in a small town in Kansas which grows more stifling each passing day.  Though she had wished for nothing more than to leave the town, her job and her overwhelming responsibilities behind, she never would have wanted it to be like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Order up!" The bell rang simultaneously as a gruff voice called out.  Sansa power walked to the window where the cooks placed the finished orders and grabbed the three plates.  The customers had already complained once and she did not want to give them any more reason to be displeased with her. 

She had worked at Nancy's truck stop since she was sixteen years old and though it certainly wasn't becoming more pleasant, there was a certain ease and confidence with which she now walked the small length behind the bar.  She smiled through their frowns and handed out generous assurances.  She recommended the special, she sold milkshakes and desserts.  She was an excellent waitress.

_She was an excellent waitress._

Something inside of her twitched in displeasure, but she pushed the feeling down and smiled at the filthy trucker who had introduced himself to her earlier as Ted, as he banged his coffee cup on the counter for a fifth refill.  "I'll be right there," but when she turned to the coffee machine she allowed herself a hateful grimace.  A laugh boomed from the kitchen, through the window, Sandor Clegane, the cook, tilted his head back in laughter, his grin a macabre display of the pink scarring which covered half of his face.  The half that faced Sansa, in fact.  She turned away, her heartbeat rising.  She hated being the center of his jokes.  She hated this stupid job and this stupid town.

She sighed and tried to paste the cheerful look back on as she turned to face Ted. 

"Some crazy stuff, ain't it?" he nodded his head towards the TV in the corner.  Onscreen ambulances and police lights flashed.

"What's going on?" Sansa asked.

"Some guys escaped the psych ward up in Lawrence, ate some gas station clerks face right off,"  Ted smiled, raising his eyebrows, gauging her reaction as if gaining some pleasure from her unease, the douche bag.

"My goodness," Sansa managed to get out, her face cool.  She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her worry.

 "Makes you glad to live in a small town like this, don't it?"

She smiled thinly at him and then retreated to the back.  The other customers would have to wait a few minutes.  As soon as she passed through the swinging door, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Robb.  He answered on the forth ring. 

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, of course.  Why wouldn't I be?"  Her brothers confused and drowsy voice instantly soothing her worry.  "You know it's 1:30 in the morning, right?"

"I'm sorry, I'm at work.  I saw something on the news, escapees from the insane asylum are killing people!"

"You're working third shift?  At the truck stop? Jesus, Sansa,"  she could hear the agitation filling his voice.

"Robb, stop.  I have bills to pay.  I want to talk about you.  I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine.  You have bills to pay? I thought the disability and SSI was enough.  Is something else going on?  I can't believe Mom is letting you work there overnight.  I am calling her first thing tomorrow to ask her what this is about. "

"Don't you dare, Robert Stark.  You know as well as I that she has enough worries of her own.  Now look, I just called to make sure you were alright.  Please, be careful until those crazies are caught!"  With that she hung up the phone.  Her brother had some nerve.  Didn't he realize that she had to work here, that it was in fact for him that she did it.  He had better not call mother. It would upset everything.

She stood there a few moments, letting the anger melt away.  A cough startled her out of her thoughts.  She turned, looking into Sander’s face, the good half.  "Customers out there," he muttered, nodding his head towards the door.  Sansa took in a deep breath and walked back out.

The rest of the night past in a blur, another typical night at Nancy's.  And when Jane walked in to relieve her at six, she smiled her first genuine smile all night.  As she turned to head out the door, she glanced back into the kitchen, right into Sandor's intense stare.  Their eyes locked and for a moment she was terrified to look away but in one slick move she slipped on her jacket and practically ran out the door.  Who did that guy think he was anyway?  Always creeping her out, staring at her and saying weird things to her.  To reiterate: she hated this job.

Her mother was already awake and making coffee when she arrived home.  She had always been an early riser but Sansa had noticed that ever since the accident, her mother seemed to get less and less sleep each day.  It worried her and she had broached the subject with her mother on more than one occasion but was always met with far less than cooperation.  

"Good morning," she said, kissing her mother on the cheek. 

"You look so tired, dear," her face wore concern. 

"Don't worry, I'm going to have a nap right now before my classes start.  I'll be fine."  Sansa could see her mother was not convinced but she kept on through to the staircase and made her way up to bed.  She really _was_ tired.

 

Two hours later, when her alarm went off, it felt as if she had only just laid down.  Still, she opened her eyes and forced her body out of it.   Ten minutes later, she was out the door and headed to the local community college for her anatomy and physiology class.   She was only 12 credits away from being eligible to sit for the nursing boards.  She smiled at the thought of leaving Nancy's and all that came with it, behind in the dust.  The goal is what kept her awake through that class and the next one.

This time, Rick and Bran greeted her from the front lawn as she pulled into the driveway.  Rick ran in circles around her as she walked.  She paused at the porch, glancing at Bran, she fought the urge to help him and continued up.  He had made it perfectly clear that he could wheel himself.

"Momma's making cookies tonight!"  Bran told her at the door.  She smiled.

"I'm going upstairs now.  I need a--"  
"A nap, yeah, yeah we all know,"  Rick finished for her, obviously disappointed.

She frowned but the guilt didn't stop the exhaustion from taking over.  She woke with an hour to spare before she had to be back at Nancy's.  Her mother was pulling a steaming plate of food  from the microwave just as she sat down.  She set the plate in front of Sansa.  "Robb called."

"Hmph," was all Sansa could reply, since she had immediately shoved a huge forkful of the casserole into her mouth.

"He said that Nancy's is dangerous at night, that derelicts and vagabonds hang around there."

Sansa narrowed her eyes and swallowed.  "Mom."

"He said that those truck drivers are not to be trusted.  They come from all over the country and,"

"Mom. It's perfectly safe.  You know that Clegane is there with me," her mother shuddered at the name and she thought maybe that hadn't been a great choice to mention the fact.  She continued anyway, "He's a good man, mom."

And she tried to believe it as she grabbed her coat and headed out to her car.


	2. Chapter 2

The truck stop was quieter than usual.  In fact, it had been empty for over an hour when she decided on some fresh air for her 15 minute break.  Outside was just as lifeless.  The only sound came from the wooden sign that read “Cheap Diesel" which creaked as it blew back and forth in wind.  Unsurprisingly, Sandor was out front as well, smoking as he did seemingly did every chance he had.  Her frown tightened as she approached him. 

"Working hard I see, little bird,"  he grinned at her.

"I don't know why you call me that," she replied, acting annoyed already.  He only laughed in respond and took another drag of his cigarette.  "Can I have one?"

"You?" he raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, "You can't be older than sixteen.  Whatchu want one of these things for?"

"I'm nearing twenty and if you can't spare one then fine," she crossed her arms in what she immediately recognized as a childish gesture but she couldn't seem to stop herself.   She stared out at the deserted gas pumps and tried to hide her pout.  Why did it bother her if this man looked at her as a child anyway?  Why should she care what he thought? Why did he always have to laugh at her and make her feel foolish?

"Here," his rough hand brushed against hers as he passed her a lit cigarette.  She shivered.  "Don't go blaming me for getting you hooked."

"I've smoked before," she bragged as she inhaled.  She looked over the man's hulking figure.  His bare muscular arms glistened with sweat and grease under the fluorescent lighting. 

"A lady like you?  I wouldn't have guessed," he said, eyes unfaltering beneath her gaze.  She couldn’t tell if he was still teasing her or not.  She looked away and decided not to answer.  It was Joff who'd given her her first smoke, among other things.  The thought made her shudder with disgust.  She needed to think of something else.

"Did you see about those folks in Lawrence?" she asked, realizing that it had been weighing on her mind ever since last night.  Despite her differences with her brother, she cared a great deal for his safety.

"Yeah, the cannibal killers," Sandor huffed.  "Strange world we live in, very strange indeed."

"They'll be caught soon," she said, though it sounded more like a question.

"Don't worry about your brother, little bird.  He'll be alright.  They've got loads of security officers around the campus, I reckon."  He looked at her gently.

"I suppose you're right," she acquiesced.  The sudden pure kindness in his eyes unnerving her, she looked away. 

 

Six am came and went with no sign of Jane.  Calls to her cell phone were unanswered.  Sansa paced back and forth between the booths and the counter, staring out the window.  By eight, customers were filling the seats again and Sansa was forced to take their orders. 

"Where is she?" she growled to herself in the kitchen as she grabbed another bag of coffee to stock the front. 

 

Luckily, by nine the second waitress on morning shift, Missy, had arrived along with the morning cook, Ben.  She was as perplexed about Jane's dereliction as Sansa had been.  Despite, the growing morning crowd, Missy shooed Sansa home, assuring her that she could handle it.

"You look dead on your feet, girl," Missy said as she pushed her through the door. 

Sansa walked quickly to her car, secretly relieved that Missy had forced her to leave, not only did she not know if she could bare to stay awake for another shift, she was nearly late for her morning class. 

She hopped into her rusted Escort and cranked the ignition.  Nothing happened. 

She turned the keys again.  She looked at her watch, 9:15, her class would start in ten minutes.  There is no way she would make it.  This was all Jane's fault! Her poor car wasn't used to sitting idle for so long, if Jane had come in on time, none of this would have happened.  She was still scowling at the dashboard when a knock on the window startled her out her downward spiral.

"Something the matter, girl?" It was Sandor.

She rolled her window down, "Car won't start."

"Pop the hood.  I'll have a look," he tapped the hood of the car as he spoke.

"It's no use," she threw open the door of her car and got out, throwing her hands up.  "I'm going to miss my class."

He frowned, "I can take you."

"I'll have no way back," she sighed.

"I'll pick you up," he said.

She looked into his scarred face.  If she was honest to herself maybe she would admit that it was at least partly the twisted and glossy pink skin that spread over the side of his face which made her uncomfortable.  She had heard-- tales, about how he had come by them, though no one seemed to really know for sure.  One such story was that Clegane was a former member of a particularly vicious biker gang.  It was said that he'd been inside a sort of makeshift trailer, a common place for a gang to have a meth lab, when said lab exploded.  It was this story that Sansa thought of when she looked past him, to his giant black Harley, and then back to his face, towering over her seated self.

"I--," she stuttered.  Her mother would have a conniption if she found out Sansa had gone for a ride on Sandor Clegane's motorcycle.

He stared back at her expectantly, "Well, girl? What'll it be?"

"Okay," she muttered.  He pulled a small helmet from one of the bags on the bike and handed it to her.  Her mother wouldn't find out.

 

She saw that something was amiss the moment they entered the parking lot of East campus Fort Stern Community College.  That was because it was strangely empty.  On a normal day, the parking lot was a labyrinth of cars; a free parking space was a prize to be fought over and the decorative flower beds seemed an unnecessary waste of potential pavement.  Today, only a few cars shared the expansive parking lot.

She tightened her grip around Sandor's chest after surveying the deserted campus.  He stopped in front of the science building and turned his head to her.  "Doesn't seem to be much action around here.  This how it usually looks?"

"No," she shook her head.  The helmet, a loose fit flopped around on her head.  She took it off, embarrassed and hopped off the bike.  "It's Tuesday, right?"

He just looked at her.

"Maybe they cancelled classes.  Should I check inside?" she paused, unsure.

"I'll come," he stood to follow her.  She began towards the building hesitantly.  The silence of the deserted campus creating an unease within her.  She had never seen it so lifeless.  As they approached the nearest door, she could make out a bright orange flyer prominently placed on the glass. She neared close enough to read it and Sansa let out a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Due to recent events, classes will be cancelled for the rest of the week."

Her first feeling was of relief; she could sleep in the rest of the week.  Her second was concern.  "Due to recent events?  What does that mean?"

"Well I'm guessing they don't mean Tristan's recent amnesia spell postponing the big wedding but since that's all we've heard about all morning, I couldn't tell ya."

Sansa blushed.  So she'd had the TV on Soapnet most of the night.  There was only so much 24 hour coverage of escaped insane cannibal people she could take.  It grated on her nerves to be reminded that her brother was so far, and alone in the midst of a mild crisis but since she couldn’t do anything about it, she’d rather not think on it. "I suppose we should head back into town."

"Aye."

 

...

 

Asha Greyjoy slammed the baseball bat down again onto the head of the blood drenched man before her, and this time was met with the sickly sensation of giving way.  He didn't stand again.  She paused a moment to catch her breath before she gingerly stepped over the now unmoving body and out of the caravan that had been her home.  

She didn't stop to think about calling the police or how she would explain the mess she had left behind once cornered by the cops.   Instead, she hopped on her bike and drove.  Kansas U was only about 100 miles North but she wanted to make it before nightfall.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa read the note again before setting it back down on the kitchen table.  She smiled tightly at Sandor.  Her stomach was a roiling mess.  “It seems they’ve gone to stay with the Sheriff until this whole thing has calmed down.”

He grimaced.  It seemed he was less excited about the idea of visiting the Sheriff’s house than she was.  Sansa hadn’t thought that possible.  At least her mother hadn’t been home to see her riding on a motorcycle, on _Sandor’s_ motorcycle.  She could hear newscaster voices coming from the TV in the living room, where Sandor had just come from.  Suddenly it seemed vitally important that she find out just exactly what was going on.

She wasn’t prepared for the helicopter footage of the chaotic burning city.  She gasped as one of the buildings seemed to collapse in a haze of smoke.  The camera panned outward, giving a great view of the skyline.  “Wait, is that…”

“New York.  Something is happening out there.  No one seems to really know what exactly.  Just people going crazy, looting, burning.  It’s like a fucking free for all.”

“But…” she shook her head. “Lawrence?”

“They haven’t shown anything, yet,” he responded.   Suddenly, it hit her.  Here was Sandor Clegane, greasy, biker, fry cook standing in the middle of her living room while New York burned.  It all felt a little too surreal.  She laughed.  

Sandor scowled at her.  “Should I take you to yer mom then?”

Sansa looked at the clock, the morning was almost over and they both needed to be back at work tonight.  She grimaced at the thought of sleeping in the same house as Joff.  “I suppose I’ll call her but I think I’d prefer to stay here.”

“Not afraid to be all alone, little bird?”  There was a dark gleam in his eye that she hadn’t noticed before.

She swallowed.  “I’ll be right back.”

 

Her mother was harder to convince. 

“When you didn’t come home this morning, I was beside myself.”

“Mother--,” Sansa began.

“Sansa Marie Stark.  I have been worried sick and I know they have phones at Nancy’s. Don’t even try it.  And what’s this I hear about you getting on the back of a _motorcycle_?”

“Mother. Please,”

“Sansa, your brother called me.  He seems to think that we should stick together til this madness is over.”

“Mother, I can’t come over there.  You know why. 

 

…

 

“Mom, listen to me.  You need to get somewhere safe,” Robb spoke pleadingly into his cell phone, though apparently getting nowhere.

Theon didn’t see why Robb felt the need to argue with her.  She was probably fine where she was.  It was the two of them who were in danger.  Theon looked out the window again.  Smoke snaked upwards from the ruined city below.  Only an hour ago the smoke had been such a distance that it had taken Theon some time to even work out that there was a fire somewhere and no one was attending to it.  Now the blaze was large enough to see clearly from their fifth floor apartment.  In fact, the fire seemed to be spreading right towards their building.  That thought set a new sense of urgency through him.  They should leave.  Go home to Arcadia.  Or anywhere else, really. 

He cleared his throat.  “Robb?”

Robb didn’t look at him, just held up one finger for silence as he continued to argue on the phone with his mother.  “What do you mean Sansa isn’t home?”

Theon looked back out the window.  He could see several people running on the street below.  He stepped away from the window quickly.  It didn’t seem like a good idea to be seen.  In the past twenty four hours, everything had seemingly gone to shit.  And while the newscasters promised the National Guard would be arriving very shortly and everything would be okay, Theon had already made up his mind that he wasn’t going to wait until the flames were lapping at his doorsteps.  And he was bringing Robb with him.

 

…

_As she surveyed the expanse before her; left untended the corn field was overwrought with tall grasses with few corn stalks to be seen.  These fields were familiar though, it took a moment to recognize.  This was her family’s farm.  Somewhere behind her would be a path that lead home.  She turned around.  On the hilltop in the distance she could see a small figure silhouetted in the setting sun.  She knew him._

_She stepped down off of the flat bed of the rusted pickup she was in and ran towards the figure, her brother.   It was Rickon, she knew it._

_As the last rays of the setting sun disappeared over the horizon, she reached the small child, she could see he was standing still, his back to her.  She called out to him.  At last, the boy turned, but it was not Rickon, it was Bran, three years younger and whole again, a smile on his face, though his eyes were cold and dead.  He ran towards her, arms open as if to embrace her._

_She screamed.  She screamed and she couldn’t run.  She was frozen._

…

She awoke in the dark of night, gasping, the uneasy feeling that had first began several days ago, growing stronger every moment.  It wasn’t as if she had never had a nightmare before.  Though, in the years since the accident, they had become fewer and farther between.  Still, something about this one felt different.

The  alarm clock on her bed stand said 9:30 which meant she had forgotten to set it and would have to get dressed without even showering because it was the time that Sandor promised to be back to pick her up for their shift.  As if on cue, she heard the approaching rumble of an engine through her open window. 

As she hoped on the back of his bike, she felt a small tug of guilt, remembering the conversation with her mother earlier.

…

Another slow night, Sansa thought morosely, as she leaned against the counter.  The nationwide catastrophe was sure going to put a dent into her bank account.  She glanced back into the kitchen where Sandor was cleaning the grill. 

She had been trying not to think about what was going on outside of their small secluded town and she went about her shift like she normally would.  Though, it became harder every hour.  The news stations broadcasted nothing but scenes of chaos from the major cities.  And every time Lawrence came up, it was more bad news.

As she was still engrossed in the TV, Sansa was a bit startled when the bell over the front entrance rang.  The man’s entrance brought the strong scent of putridity.  Sansa forced herself not to gag in front of him.  He stumbled a bit as he made his way down the small aisle of booths.

“Sir?”  She called out to him, something about his demeanor disturbed her and left her unwilling to leave her place behind the register.  He’s probably drunk, she thought.

He responded with only a pain filled moan before slumping over onto the floor nearly in front of her.

Guilt coursed through her as she raced from behind the counter towards him.  She knelt down beside him, the pungent odor was even more overwhelming up close.  She held her breath as she reached for him, “Are you okay?”

Before she could lay her hand on the man’s shoulder, he moved.  She backed away on instinct as he abruptly stood up.  Now, she could see his face clearly.  His eyes were strange, cold and white, as if the irises had been bleached away.  He turned his head inquisitively and then, he snarled.

Sansa screamed.  She stumbled backwards.  Her movement seemed to draw him into action as just then he pounced and was on her.  She pushed him away with all of her strength but his grip remained firm.  Perhaps it was the lighting, or the adrenaline flowing through her, but in that moment the man’s teeth looked unnaturally like fangs.  A terrible sound echoed off the walls, belated she realized it was her own screams.

Even when she felt the man being pulled off of her and Sandor had gathered her in his arms, she couldn’t stop shaking.

 


End file.
